A Question of Marriage
by Kizzykat
Summary: Alexander's generals want him to take a wife before departing to Persia


**A Question of Marriage by Kizzykat**

_I owe a huge apology to Tribal Shimmy for stealing her image of Hephaestion standing in the lake, and to Norrsken, whose 'Hazards of Friendship' made me think of why Alexander did not marry before setting out for Persia (apart from the obvious one)._

Hephaestion surfaced gracefully from his swim in the lake, rising to his feet as the clear mountain water streamed from his sculptured form. His long dark hair was moulded by the weight of the water into the hollows of his shoulders as he waded to within hailing distance of Alexander. The young King was lying on the gravel foreshore warming himself in the sun, propped up on his elbow, watching what he was sure was one of the immortal gods made flesh rising before him.

"Come on in," Hephaestion said with a smile.

Alexander shook his head, unable to find his voice for a moment. "I'm enjoying the view."

Hephaestion turned to look across the silvered water of the lake to the shores clad with dark green cypress and pine, above which the stony mountain peaks rose into the clear blue sky.

"Yes, it is beautiful here," he said. "Peaceful." He stood thigh-deep in the water, watching the distant flight of an eagle.

Alexander's breath swelled in his chest as he traced the profile of Hephaestion's body outlined against the darkness of the trees on the nearer shore: the swell of his thighs rising from the still water, the curve of his buttocks, the hollow at the small of his back, his narrow waist and the muscular rise of his chest.

Hephaestion became aware of Alexander's silent gaze and turned his head towards him, his lips parted as though he had just been kissed, water drops glistening on his skin.

Suddenly, Alexander smiled at him, and Hephaestion's cheeks coloured as he realised Alexander's meaning. Yet he made no move to withdraw from Alexander's view. Instead, he raised his arms, caught back his heavy wet hair and began wringing the water from it.

A strangled sound of laughter that was half a moan of desire issued from Alexander.

Dropping his arms, Hephaestion laughed, the sound echoing like silver bells across the water. He scooped handfuls of water and flung them at Alexander, their arcing droplets glittering like a magical spell in the sunlight.

"Come on in," he said. "The water will cool your ardour."

Alexander blinked as he was showered by the droplets. "You know I can't swim."

"I'll teach you," Hephaestion's voice sang across the water.

"I'm scared of the water."

"You?"

"Yes. My mother used to dip me nightly by the light of the moon into the river Styx when I was an infant. Scarred me for life."

Hephaestion stared at Alexander, not sure if his leg was being pulled. Slowly a grin began to tease at the corners of his malleable mouth. Wading out of the water towards Alexander, he dropped to his hands and knees beside the young King at the water's edge. "Then I'd better see if she made you invulnerable to my kisses with her magic," he said, his voice low in his throat.

"Here?" he said, placing a kiss with water-cold lips on Alexander's sun-warmed shoulder.

""Uh-uh," Alexander said, shaking his golden hair, his eyes dancing in the sunlight.

"Here?" Hephaestion asked, leaning towards Alexander and touching his lips against the softness of Alexander's.

"No," Alexander said, his voice a breath of laughter.

"Here?" Hephaestion asked, placing a warm wet kiss between Alexander's breasts. His eyes sparkling, he grinned up at Alexander as his long wet hair fell against Alexander's ribs.

Alexander raised a hand to hold Hephaestion when a sound came from behind them. Two young heads turned rapidly to see Cleitus standing on the bank above them. The handsome, black-haired general stood with his arms folded, watching them from the shade of a pine tree. His dark eyes were glowing as he tried to suppress the small smile that was playing across his lips.

"I might have known what I would find you two doing," he said.

"Cleitus," Alexander said with a smile, extending his arm in welcome. "Come join us."

White teeth flickered in his dark beard as Cleitus grinned and stepped down into the sunlight. He sat beside Alexander, his arms loosely clasped around his knees and Alexander turned to sit facing him, Hephaestion sitting back on his heels. Cleitus' eyes moved from one handsome youth to the other, his pulse picking up as he felt the sexual energy dancing around them. His thoughts must have shown in his eyes for they grinned at him, wicked delight glittering in their eyes as they edged closer to him like two satyrs eyeing their prey.

"Cleitus," Alexander whispered sibilantly, circling his forefinger around Cleitus' knee. Cleitus' skin tingled as he watched Alexander, his King, his glorious, darling, fierce, brave young King who was going to take the Macedonians to undreamt of heights of honour and power. He would follow Alexander to the ends of the earth.

"Are you here to join us?" Alexander whispered, his large eyes filling Cleitus' vision as he rubbed the palm of his hand over the ball of Cleitus' knee.

Cleitus' heart was racing, unable to look away from Alexander. He startled slightly as Hephaestion's fingers descended onto his arm, sliding over his bulging muscles with a feather-light touch which sent sparkles through his blood. Cleitus drew a great breath, suddenly very conscious of Hephaestion's presence as he moved to sit at his back, the young man's breath warm on his shoulder.

Cleitus cleared his throat, feeling the blood darkening his face. "You two had better stop this," he said, trying to bring his voice back to reality.

"Why?"

"Because there's a delegation of your generals on their way to talk to you," Cleitus said, meeting Alexander's eyes. "I came ahead to warn you."

Alexander stilled, the focus in his eyes sharpening. "What for?"

"I think I'll let them tell you."

Alexander sat back on his heels, resting his hands on his thighs, his elbows turned out. He cocked his head sideways and fixed Cleitus with his upturned eyes. "Oh?"

A shiver of warning ran through Cleitus. He raised a hand, palm open, in a conciliatory gesture. "I'm only the messenger."

Alexander tossed his head, his teeth set. "Hand me my clothes," he said. Hephaestion picked up Alexander's chiton and handed it to Cleitus, who passed it to Alexander. He felt guilty at spoiling Alexander's pleasure.

Eying Alexander, he said, "They want you to get married."

Alexander, emerging from his chiton, did not react, but regarded him steadily for a long moment. Then his eyes moved to the men approaching through the trees and he rose to his feet, taking his belt as Hephaestion passed it to him. He tied it on his hips and pulled on his sandals, already moving towards the trees. He stepped quickly up the bank and advanced towards his approaching generals.

Under the shade of the pine trees he stopped, waiting for them, feet apart, hands on hips, head up. Hephaestion, clothed too now, stood in the background, Cleitus moving quietly off to the side.

"Gentlemen," Alexander said, looking from one to the other of them. "What can I do for you?"

"Alexander," the elderly Antipater said, his son Cassander standing behind him, watching Alexander warily. "It's good to see you taking time to enjoy yourself." He smiled, his pleasantry in contrast to his son's unease.

"You didn't walk all the way up here just to tell me that."

"No," Antipater said, bowing his head.

"Alexander," Parmenion the strategist said, "why don't we sit down?" He took a seat on a fallen tree trunk, his dashing son Philotas sitting beside him. Antigonus, Coenus, Meleager, Cleitus and one or two others sat down on the soft pine needles. Even Antipater lowered himself stiffly to the ground, Cassander sitting close to him.

Alexander stood and surveyed them sitting at his feet, noting the mixture of youth with experience. After a moment he too sat down, cross-legged, a small figure alone in splendid isolation. Hephaestion sat down silently out of Alexander's sight, his hands clasped tightly around his updrawn knees.

"Alexander," Antipater began, "I know we have discussed this before and we all understood your reluctance to commit yourself to a major alliance when the kingdom was so insecure after your father's death. Yet now you have more than proven your worth as Philip's son. We are here to ask you to consider taking a wife and getting yourself an heir before you embark for Persia in the spring. Consider the danger of losing you and leaving Macedonia without a king. Consider the possibility of all you and Philip have worked for, shed blood for, being lost in civil war if you should die without a son."

"Come, Alexander," Philotas said with a cheerful smile, "take a wife and silence these old men and their worries. Hephaestion won't mind."

Alexander did not appear to react but he became very still, staring at Philotas with eyes ablaze. Philotas stared back as him, his eyes wide with wariness and defiance as he realised he had pushed Alexander too far. Yet he was not prepared to back down and he would fight Alexander if Alexander went for him, but he was not confident enough to start a fight with him. He waited to see which way Alexander would strike.

"The woman I marry," Alexander said at last, his voice dangerous and uncompromising, "will understand how much I value my friends. All my friends."

"Alexander," Parmenion said, the edges of his voice soft to forestall his son from opening his mouth again. Philotas looked briefly at his father, then directed his eyes to the pine needles between his feet. "I'm sure all your friends would wish you happiness and the joys of fatherhood."

"I do not have time to woo a wife."

"Alexander, your father took four wives in the first two years after he became King. They were all marriages of state, not matters of the heart."

"I am not my father."

"No, indeed you are not. You are your own man and you have proven that."

"He knew my mother before he married her. He loved her."

Parmenion bowed his head briefly in acknowledgement. "It was still a marriage of state, Alexander," he said softly. "It became an affair of the heart."

"Did it?"

"You would know better than I, Alexander."

"Then am I to marry a woman, a girl whom I do not know? A stranger who neither knows me, nor has any say in the matter? Would any of you wish that on your daughters?" Alexander looked around at them, his eyes sparking off them accusingly. "Whose daughter do I marry?" None answered him, not daring to appear too forward before their peers. "I must marry a Macedonian, for I have had to bear the slurs of bastardy because my mother is not Macedonian, because she is an Epirote, because that is not good enough for Macedonians, even though she carries the blood of Achilles in her veins. Whose daughter then do I chose? What man among you considers himself worthy enough to offer his daughter, considers himself strong enough to protect her and her child from all rivals whilst I am away in Persia? No," he said, the tension in his voice easing when none of them showed any inclination to answer. "No, I will not subject a young girl, an innocent life, perhaps two innocent lives, to such danger."

"It is your duty, Alexander," said a young man's voice.

"I know my duty, Cassander," Alexander said, his voice like a lash.

"Then marry." Cassander stared with hard, frightened eyes at Alexander.

"My duty is to secure this kingdom, not to sow jealousy and discord."

"Your mother would guard the girl and her child with her life, Alexander," Antigonous said, diverting Alexander's attention.

"Ha!" Alexander's laugh startled echoes like crows from the trees. "What makes you think my mother is a tender nurse? Cleopatra and her infants found her mercies very tender."

"Cleopatra's son was a threat to you, Alexander," Parmenion said.

"My half-brother, Philip's son, a Macedonian who would have made an excellent heir for me until I got my own son, a son of my own choosing. And my mother killed him."

"Your mother believed she acted in your best interests," Parmenion said quietly.

"She did not."

"To whom do you leave your kingdom then, Alexander, should you fall in Persia?" Antipater asked.

Alexander betrayed his surprise only by a quick blink. "To you," he said, "if you can hold it. If we fall in Persia when we meet the Persian army, as inevitably we will, then none will return. You will be left. And if the Assembly will not have you, there is my brother Arrhidaeus, there is my uncle Alexander of Epirus, my sister's husband. Their sons will have the blood of Heracles and Achilles. But I have no need of a wife, gentlemen. I have a wife, a mistress and forty thousand sons and heirs. Every man in my army is my son and heir. I would lay down my life for every one of them, I would give my body and soul to provide them with the things they need. The army is a demanding mistress who wants riches, triumph and power, and Macedonia is a jealous wife who demands my full attention. Would you ask less of me, gentlemen?"

Alexander surveyed his generals, the light of triumph in his eyes.

"Indeed not, Alexander," Antipater said, quietly conceding the argument. He knew their cause was lost.

"Forgive me, gentlemen, I am young," Alexander said, his voice more fluid. "Perhaps in a year or two when I am wiser, more experienced in the ways of the world, I will feel able to accept a wife and all that entails. I have much to think of, much to occupy my heart and mind: be patient with me."

Alexander stared at them with anxious, hopeful eyes, his face softened in expectation of being accepted.

"We will respect your wishes, Alexander," Antipater said. He began to climb to his feet from the woodland floor.

"Since we cannot persuade you otherwise," Cleitus muttered. His eyes moved to Hephaestion sitting silently and tensely in the shadows. The boy was unnerving in his beauty, tightly-strung as he tried to watch all the generals for Alexander. His lips moved as if he were whispering to himself.

"We will leave you in peace, Alexander," Parmenion said, rising to his feet, Philotas following him quietly.

"I will think on it," Alexander said, suddenly earnest, "but not today."

Parmenion bowed his head to Alexander and turned to leave. Philotas quickly bowed his head too and hurried after his father. Antipater bowed likewise to Alexander and Cassander, with a brief, barely-concealed stare of hostility at Alexander, bowed too, followed by all the others, even Cleitus. They left Alexander there with his shadow.

Out of sight of Alexander, Parmenion dropped back to walk beside Antipater. "We should not have pushed him," he said quietly. "He'll dig his heels in now and prove more stubborn than a mule."

"I can understand him wishing to stay away from women with their blood and intrigues," Antipater said.

Parmenion made a sound of rueful assent.

"He's very young," Antipater continued, "and he thinks he has all the time in the world. Hopefully when you return from Persia in two or three years time he will be ready."

"Two or three years?"

"Yes. Surely it will take no longer to conquer the coastal cities. Once they are in our hands, Macedonia and Greece will be safe from Persian attack."

"You think he will stop there?"

"Yes, don't you?"

"I think Alexander believes the whole Persian Empire is ready to be taken," Parmenion said. "The only question is whether we are ready to take it."

Antipater exchanged a long, considering look with Parmenion as they emerged from the woodland into the sunlight.

Alexander watched his generals walk out of sight, anger and outrage warring within him. He was shaking with reaction to the siege laid to his personal choices, his choices as a man which he had saved from being sacrificed to his choices as a King. He would not be pushed, he would not. His heart was his own to give as he chose.

Suddenly he missed the comfort of Hephaestion, the warmth of friendship at his back, the lover aware of his distress. He looked over his shoulder to see Hephaestion still seated on the ground, his hands gripped tightly around his updrawn knees, rocking slightly, his lips moving in a silent chant as he stared sightlessly after the departed generals.

Alexander went to him, kneeling beside him with a touch of concern. Hephaestion looked up at him with strained eyes, his lips still moving.

"You are mine, you are mine, you are mine," he whispered over and over, warding Alexander from the grasp of others.

Alexander's heart flared with passionate love, Hephaestion's devotion feeding the flames of his love. He caught Hephaestion tightly to him, pressing his damp head fervently against his breast. "I am yours, only yours," he whispered, pressing his cheek against Hephaestion's wet hair.

Hephaestion fought himself free of Alexander's crushing embrace to rise to his feet. "No, Alexander! It's not right," he cried. "You must take a wife!"

"I am not marrying anyone!" Alexander cried, anger rubbing his nerves raw.

Hephaestion stared at him, then covered his face with his hands and sat down abruptly on the soft ground covered with pine needles. "I can't let you go, Alexander," he said, his voice muffled. "But they are right."

Alexander moved to lean against Hephaestion's bowed back, laying his head against his shoulder. "I cannot marry," he said, closing his eyes tightly as he pressed his cheek against Hephaestion's warmth. "There is not room in my heart for a wife. It is one more burden that I would have to carry."

Hephaestion turned round and looked at Alexander with troubled eyes. He took him into a tender embrace, cradling Alexander against his chest.

"I want to marry a wife who will make me happy," Alexander said, "a woman who will love and cherish my sons with me, who will not be jealous of my love for you, who will not be at war with me. How can I find that woman if I make a rash marriage to a stranger who I must then leave behind?"

Hephaestion tightened his grip on Alexander, rocking him slightly until Alexander pulled himself free. Hephaestion regarded him with a glimmer of pain in his eyes, Alexander staring back at him with growing resolution.

"I must earn a peerless wife," he said at length. "One above reproach. Nothing less than the King of Persia's daughter."

"You will deserve her."

"I want my sons," Alexander said softly, "to be as beautiful as you."

He leant forward to kiss Hephaestion's cheek. Hephaestion turned into Alexander's kiss, their lips meeting, touching, caressing. They lost themselves in each other's warmth and the moistness of their kiss.

Alexander drew back gently. "I'm hungry," he said, smiling into Hephaestion's eyes. "I vote we get a cold roast chicken, bread and olives, a flagon of wine, and go to my room, out of the way of any generals lurking about."

Hephaestion cocked his head to one side, his hair hanging down and his eyes beginning to warm with a smile. "The room with the big bed, you mean?"

"That's the one."

Glowing with love, Alexander climbed to his feet, holding out his hand to Hephaestion who took it with a smile and let Alexander pull him to his feet."

"Let the future wait until tomorrow," Alexander said. "Today is ours."


End file.
